


Not Set in Stone

by Ray_Writes



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death Fix, Eventual Lauriver - Freeform, F/M, Metahuman Laurel Lance, Post-Episode: s04e08 Legends of Yesterday, but not for fans of it, eventually, mentioned Olicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23448010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: Before the Flash and Arrow teams return home from defeating Vandal Savage, Cisco's powers warn him about an event in Laurel's future. The limited knowledge of this possible future has a ripple effect all of its own.
Relationships: Laurel Lance & Cisco Ramon, Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen
Comments: 36
Kudos: 89





	Not Set in Stone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_White_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Wolf/gifts).



> Hello all! This oneshot has been a long time in the making and was inspired by a discussion over on the Lauriver discord about Cisco only vibing about Laurel’s death after it happened and how things might have changed if he’d done so before. Many thanks to TheWhiteWolf for helping make this idea possible and for beta reading. There’s a line or two in here from the shows, so if you recognize it I do not own it. Please enjoy, and thanks for reading yet another one of my fix-its!

Things were winding down at the farmhouse now that Vandal Savage was little more than ashes. Cisco wished he could enjoy the victory, but he was too busy watching Kendra standing with Carter across the room as they talked to Barry and Oliver. Cisco was pretty sure he was officially dumped, even if they hadn’t had the conversation yet.

Before he could get too deep into his wallowing, however, a voice pulled him out of his musings. “Hey, Cisco, can I ask you a favor?”

He looked up and to his left. Laurel stood there, and a part of him still had trouble believing someone as awesome and gorgeous as her would give him the time of day. He’d thought the same about Kendra, too, and look how that had turned out.

“Sure. Uh, step into my office?” He suggested, gesturing towards the far less crowded hall. She nodded with a smile and followed him.

“So, I don’t know how much any of the others may have said, but my sister is back. Sara.”

“The Canary?” When Laurel nodded, Cisco’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But, I thought she was dead.” Caitlin had run a DNA test on the murder weapon and everything.

“She was, but there was this magic that I used to bring her back,” Laurel explained. She seemed to sense he was pretty bowled over by that news, for she quickly added, “And it can’t be used anymore, so it doesn’t really matter, but the point is she’s struggling to figure out what she wants to do with her life now. She had trouble suiting up in the field. Her old suit, I think it reminds her of her life with the League and that makes it harder.”

“Okay,” Cisco agreed, still at a loss.

“I wanted to see if you could make her something new, like how you did for Oliver.”

Oh. That was better, much more familiar territory. “Yeah, totally. I mean, I’ll need measurements and idea input and stuff, but I can get on it. Might not be done in time for Christmas.”

“That’s okay,” Laurel assured him. “She’s traveling right now, so I’d just like to have it for the next time she visits.”

“Great.” He was excited just thinking about a new project, and it helped distract him from his romantic woes.

“Okay, do you have an estimate on what that might cost?”

He waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I just bill STAR Labs for the materials. Barry should probably get on that, though.”

“Alright, well, thank you so much.” Laurel smiled again and offered a hand to shake on it. He grinned back and took it.

Then the whole world shifted around him.

Everything became tinted that blue color he associated with his visions, and Cisco gasped at the sudden transition. Then he nearly did again when he was able to focus enough to see what was in front of him.

Laurel, on the ground, an arrow embedded into her abdomen through the jacket of her Black Canary suit. Blood trickled out of her mouth as she barely kept herself sitting up with a hand braced on the concrete floor.

And the arrow, even with the blue haze that covered everything, was green.

He jolted back to himself, gasping for breath.

“Cisco? Are you okay?” Laurel’s other hand was on his shoulder as she watched him with concern. He gripped the hand that he still held even tighter as his head shook.

“No. Oh, no, no, that _can’t_ be possible.”

“Cisco, talk to me.”

He stared back at her. How did he even try to explain? What would explaining _do_? “I- I vibed just now. With my powers.”

“Your powers?”

He nodded. “They let me see things. Like on other Earths or in the future. I… I may have just seen the future. Your future.”

Laurel took a moment to process that information. “Something tells me it wasn’t good.”

Cisco shook his head, his eyes stinging. His throat threatened to close up just thinking about it. If that was the future — Laurel dying, her own teammate’s arrow the murder weapon — why was he shown it? Why did his visions always seem to herald some kind of doom?

Some laughter came from the main sitting room. The room where Oliver was. His breathing picked up just realizing that fact. Cisco pulled on Laurel’s hand to lead her further back into the house. They ended up in the kitchen.

“Okay, okay, if I saw it, then it has to mean something. I have to be able to do something about this, to fix it or- or I don’t know…”

“Maybe if you told me what happened in the thing you saw, we can figure it out together,” Laurel suggested.

“I really don’t want to,” Cisco said. “But okay. What I saw was, I think, you dying.”

Laurel sucked in a breath, her eyes wide. But she didn’t scream, didn’t cry. “How did it — does it… happen?”

“You were, or will be, in some kind of fight, or you were wearing your suit at least,” he told her, his voice hoarse. “You get stabbed by an arrow. Right here.” He placed his hand on his abdomen, closer to the right. “You were struggling to breath, it was- it was horrible. And the arrow… it was Oliver’s.”

Laurel’s face drained of the little color it had left. “No.”

He blinked to try and clear his blurry vision. “I don’t like it either, but that’s what I saw.”

“Did you see him?”

“No,” he admitted reluctantly.

Laurel’s chin raised, defiance in her eyes. “Then I refuse to believe it. Oliver would never.”

“He’s put arrows in people before,” Cisco couldn’t help pointing out, wilting under the sharp look Laurel threw him.

“He’s changed. And even in those days, he wouldn’t have done something like that. He was never cruel.” Laurel licked her lips and paced the tiny space in the kitchen. “It could be an imposter. That’s happened to him before. Or, worst case scenario, he’s drugged like Thea was last year. That’s the only way Ollie would ever do something like this.”

“We got to figure out how to stop him,” Cisco decided. “Or how to stop that happening to him,” he amended to avoid upsetting her again.

But Laurel just looked at him, lost. “Can we even do that? You said you saw the future. Doesn’t it have to happen?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I mean, it can’t be, right? What’s the point of me having these powers if, if I can’t do anything with them? Save people?”

“Cisco, it’s not your job to save me,” Laurel said, watching him with compassion.

“But I—”

Footsteps and a shadow falling into the room caused him to snap his mouth shut, and he was grateful a million times over that he had. Oliver stood in the kitchen archway.

“I was just getting some water,” he said, nodding to the refrigerator over Cisco’s shoulder. “Was I interrupting something?”

“No.” Laurel said right away. “Um, I was just asking Cisco for some help with a present for Sara. Let me get that water for you.” She turned to the cabinets to search for a clean glass.

Oliver shifted one step further into the room. Cisco placed himself in between him and Laurel, shaking in his shoes with both anger and fear.

In an out-and-out fight, he could never hope to do anything against Oliver. The man had held his own against Barry while the speedster had been in a meta-induced rage, for crying out loud! But was that going to stop Cisco from trying? No.

Oliver eyed him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Did they really even know each other? Did Cisco really know what he might be capable of? Laurel trusted him, but was that trust unfounded given what they now knew?

“Here.” Laurel’s hand landed on his shoulder as she moved around him to give Oliver the water glass.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” And he didn’t know how Laurel continued to keep smiling at the man she’d just learned would have at least a hand in her potential death — except Cisco knew that look in her eyes, of watching someone slip away from you to stand with someone else across the room. Of pretending to be happy with all the rest. Cisco had worn that very look barely twenty minutes ago, even if it felt like a lifetime from now.

She loved him.

As Oliver disappeared through the archway, Laurel turned back to Cisco and spoke in a hushed tone. “We can’t tell anyone else what you saw.”

“But they should know if he’s—”

“We don’t know what Oliver will do. It’s an unsubstantiated claim based on circumstantial evidence. It would destroy the team, disrupt his campaign and throw everything we have all worked for the last four years into question.”

“But it’s your life!” He barely managed to keep his exclamation to a whisper.

“So it’s my choice. Please, Cisco. At least until we can learn more.”

She was begging him with her eyes, and what could he really do? March into that sitting room and declare they throw Oliver in the pipeline? He’d look as crazy as Barry had when locking up Jay. His shoulders slumped. “Okay.”

She gave him a last, strained smile and disappeared through the archway, going upstairs as opposed to joining the others in the sitting room. Cisco’s eyes narrowed as he noticed Oliver following Laurel’s movement before Felicity got his attention again.

Laurel would never believe Oliver capable of striking the killing blow, so it would be up to Cisco to look at this objectively and make the necessary precautions. They’d just prevented history from repeating itself by saving Kendra and Carter tonight.

Now it was up to him to change the future.

\---

Laurel didn’t sleep at all that night, a fact she thankfully managed to conceal from Thea who was sharing her room in the farmhouse. If Thea had asked about it, she wouldn’t have known what to tell her.

How did she even begin to describe knowing she was going to die?

She didn’t know much about how these metahuman abilities worked, but they seemed to be accurate. If Cisco had seen it, was there any real way of avoiding it? Or was he just saying they could prevent it to try and give her some false hope? Laurel wasn’t sure if she wanted that or not.

The team packed their things back up and waited for Oliver, Barry and Cisco to return from seeing Cisco off. Cisco was almost dogging Oliver’s steps as he approached them at the van, and Laurel gave a little warning shake of the head. Oliver was far too trained not to pick up on repeated aggression like that, and she didn’t want Cisco getting in trouble over all this — not that she thought Oliver would hurt him. She couldn’t see Oliver hurting _any_ of them, so how could that vision be real?

“We ready to go?”

Laurel nodded along with the rest of them and got in the van. She tuned out the conversations being had, trying to think her options through.

She might be dying soon. She needed a will. Did she have much to leave people? There wasn’t much she really owned beyond clothes and her car.

Her lease. Thea needed to sign on in order to keep the apartment after. She’d have to make up some sort of excuse as to why she was asking her friend to do so now. Something that didn’t make it sound like she was getting her affairs in order so Thea wouldn’t wind up homeless once she was gone.

It occurred to her halfway into the drive that Oliver didn’t look to be contributing much to any talking in the van, either. His gaze was turned towards the window, watching the scenery pass as John drove on. What was he thinking about? Did she even dare to ask?

They returned to their daily routines back home, and Laurel did her best to pretend nothing was wrong all the while preparing. She took a lunch meeting to get her will officially filed. She attended a couple AA meetings with her dad to check up on his progress and make sure he was sticking to it. She started leaving detailed notes about each of her cases, for whoever might have to pick up the pieces of her job and her life after her.

Every time she suited up with the others now, a tiny voice asked in the back of her mind, _Is it tonight? Am I going to die?_ She forced herself to ignore it. Forced herself to ignore the flutter of fear that went through her every time she passed by the line of newly hardened arrows on a table in the base, green tips pointed upward.

It couldn’t really be him. There had to be some other reason or person involved. By the time she was racing down the streets on her bike or in the thick of a fight with her tonfas and her fists, it was barely a thought in her head. It was the only time she could truly let go of that thought and just _be._

And then the others were all abducted at Oliver’s holiday party and Malcolm arrived to play the Green Arrow’s double to help rescue them.

 _It could be him._ Laurel’s heart thudded in her ears as she finished suiting up, watching Malcolm every second out of the corner of her eye. Was he really here to help, or was he about to betray her for the final time?

But it didn’t come. Malcolm helped them, and all her friends were safe. Back at the Bunker, they regrouped as a team.

“I’ll have to thank him,” Oliver noted and stopped there. Laurel didn’t know what to think. Was her thanks implied or just not deemed necessary?

She turned away and walked off to the empty side room, ignoring the confused or surprised looks of her team members. It wasn’t that she did this for thanks or for credit — but was it so hard for him to acknowledge when she actually did something right? He’d promised to be a better friend, but here she was wondering already if that promise was sincere. If he was supposed to kill her…

No. Laurel gave a sharp shake of the head. She couldn’t let herself give into those doubts. Oliver was a good man. He was the man, God help her, she still loved; broken and jagged and ill-fitting as they had been, he held her heart in his hands, not her life.

And of course he was the one to follow her to where she’d retreated. “Laurel?” Oliver stopped just a couple of feet from her. “Was there something wrong?”

“No. It’s just—” She shrugged. “Malcolm wasn’t the only person there tonight, you know?”

Oliver’s head bowed as his eyes squeezed shut for a moment. “He wasn’t. You’re right, I — thank you,” he said.

Laurel’s lips pressed tight together, trying to force a smile. It was stupid, dragging it out of him like this.

“Are we okay?”

“You should get Felicity home. She went through a lot tonight.” John and Thea had as well, but the former would likely only let his wife in on any fear or vulnerability leftover, and Laurel would see to the latter. She marched past Oliver to do just that, skirting around him with a wider berth than necessary.

“I know it wasn’t easy for you to work with him after everything,” Oliver said, making her pause in the archway for a moment. “So really, thank you.”

Laurel looked back at him. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep the people I love safe. Just like you would.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, and she couldn’t detect even the slightest hesitation or deception. She wanted to believe that wasn’t just naivety on her part.

Laurel left and was barely home with Thea for an hour when they got the call from Oliver that Felicity had been hospitalized after an ambush on the couple’s car. They went to join him, but Oliver hardly seemed to want to be there. He was manic in his need to see Darhk pay, making reckless decisions and risking the progress they’d made in bringing peace to the city, in working together as a team. She couldn’t believe he’d broken Machin out without even talking to the rest of them so they could show him just how badly that could go wrong.

“And when your master plan doesn't work, you just sent a murdering psychotic back on the streets,” she told him. 

Oliver advanced a step, his face thunderous and eyes flashing and she—

She couldn’t help it. She backed away. She wasn’t in her suit, there was no bow and arrow in his hand and it was _Oliver._ But had she finally gone too far, pushed this strange contentious thing between them, stood in defiance too many times?

He froze, his shoulders dropping back, his fists unclenching. “Laurel?” Something like hurt, like fear of his own took over his features.

“What’s going on?” John’s voice seemed to startle both of them, and Laurel realized she’d completely forgotten what they’d been fighting about.

“I… you tell him.” She rushed out of the room, wiping at the few tears that managed to slip past her eyelids.

How could she have really thought that? In all their fights, in all the various ways Oliver had ever hurt her, had he ever struck out at her physically? She was losing control, too much knowledge of her own impending future clouding her common sense and making her jump at shadows. She needed to get a grip. The team needed her, for however long she could be with them. 

And she didn’t want anyone thinking she couldn’t handle this life; however it ended, being the Black Canary was the one thing that kept her going when everything else seemed to fall around her. They’d have to kill her first to ever take it away.

So Laurel managed to regroup in time to take care of Machin with Speedy and Spartan while Oliver finally went to see his fiancée in the hospital. She told herself to live in the moment and forget about the future for now. No more living in fear.

And then, of course, her sister came back just in time to turn everything upside down for her.

“Time travel. I can’t believe we’re talking about it like it’s actually real.” Seeing the future was one thing, but being able to go there and interact with it?

What if Sara could go to that day that was waiting for Laurel? What if she was the key?

Yet she still couldn’t say when it would happen. She’d be sending her sister on a wild goose chase if she told her what Cisco had seen, and what if there was nothing she could do? She didn’t want Sara blaming herself for Laurel’s death the way their father had blamed himself all those years Sara had been away thanks to the League.

In that same vein, it would be better that Sara was as far from here as possible, so she couldn’t feel it was her fault. “I think you should go.”

She couldn’t ask Sara to stay. She never could, and Laurel didn’t want to be treated as some invalid on her deathbed. She didn’t want to keep Sara to herself if it meant the pallor of death hung over all their final memories. So she gave her the suit she’d asked Cisco to make and sent her to find herself. It was the best thing for her sister. It was all she could give her.

She hoped it was enough. For Sara, for the others. She hoped she was doing the right thing for them.

\---

Barry wished he knew what had gotten into his friend.

At first he had thought Cisco was acting strangely thanks to being left behind by Kendra. Now that he and Patty had gone their separate ways, he could relate even. But Cisco’s behavior spoke of more than a broken heart.

The engineer had been keeping late hours. Now that Barry was in charge of the running of STAR Labs, he noticed things like that more and more, when he bothered to look at the papers. Cisco had also been ordering a lot of textiles, which told him he was working on at least a fair number of extracurricular projects.

But what really had Barry concerned was the sheer mania Cisco had exhibited earlier today when they’d been working against the clock to save Dr. McGee’s life. When Barry had gotten to her, averting the death Cisco had foreseen, his friend shouted for joy so loudly Barry had been tempted to take the comm out of his ear.

Of course, he was glad that Dr. McGee was still with them, too, but he suspected there was something more to it than that. Especially since Cisco was right back to feverishly working away.

Cisco had rigged something like those machines that fired baseballs for people to practice hitting. Only instead of baseballs, this machine fired arrows straight into a mannequin torso wearing a black bodysuit. Previous models stood in the background, testament to repeated failures.

“Damnit!” Cisco smacked his fist against the wall as the latest arrow pierced the material the mannequin was wearing.

“Uh, dude?” Barry asked, feeling he’d seen enough to warrant stepping in. “What’s going on?”

“Testing some designs.”

“Okay, well it’s getting late.”

“I’m fine, dude,” Cisco said, his voice terse as he moved the mannequin to the side to join its fellows.

“I’m not sure you are.” He took a couple steps further into the room. “You should get some rest.”

“It can wait.”

“Cisco—”

His friend whirled around to shout at him. “It has to wait, Barry! We- we changed _time_ today without time traveling and that is _huge,_ and I have to figure out how to do it _again_ because if I don’t? Laurel’s going to get killed with a green arrow!”

“What?” He couldn’t have heard that right.

“I vibed. Last time we all met up, Laurel was talking to me and we touched hands and I vibed that she was… she’s going to die, Barry.” Cisco’s eyes were red-rimmed and his voice wavered badly. “Unless I stop it, he’s gonna kill her.”

Barry shook his head. “Not- not Oliver. You didn’t see him. Right? It wasn’t him in the vision.”

“I didn’t see anyone else. But it was his arrow, man, I know it was.”

Barry sat hard on the end of the table Cisco had covered in spare materials and notes. He just couldn’t believe it. Oliver wasn’t the killer he had been, and even then he had never killed someone as good and loyal as Laurel. His friend had just discovered he was a father; he would be doing everything he could to be the kind of man William could look up to. So how could this be?

“Walk me through the vision. Everything you remember seeing. What did it look like?”

“I don’t know. It was kind of… gray? I think the walls and everything were concrete.” Cisco walked over and sat beside him, one hand dragging through his hair as he concentrated. “But there was something else.”

“Another person?”

“No. But I think it might have been a sign on the wall. Something- something about a security level?”

“Just focus on that, forget about Laurel or the arrow for a second,” Barry encouraged him. He was sure that was all his friend would have been concentrating on when he first had the vision, and likely the subsequent nightmares. “Is there something else in the room?”

Cisco’s eyes were squeezed shut. “Maybe… a table. Like in a cafeteria. There’s some weird statue-thing sitting on it. That’s all I got.”

“Okay… you don’t see a time or a landmark or anything?” When his friend shook his head, Barry blew out a breath. “So this could happen any time.”

“Any time they’re both out in the field, yeah.”

“Who else knows?”

“Just Laurel.”

“Just — dude, you told her she was gonna die?”

Cisco stood back up just seconds after he did. “Well, I wasn’t exactly able to hide my reaction to seeing her die when she was standing right in front of me, okay? These powers — I barely understand how they work and it’s rarely in any kind of way I want. I’d rather have not seen it at all, but I don’t get that option!”

He knew that, and he knew blaming Cisco was useless, but God, imagining going through life with an imminent death sentence hanging over you… what did Laurel have to be feeling right now?

“Has she told anyone? Her family? Oliver?”

“Why would she tell him?”

“So he can figure out how to keep it from happening?”

“We don’t know that he’s not the one who’s going to do it,” Cisco pointed out darkly. “Telling him might just be like some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“She really thinks he would?” Barry considered Oliver a good friend, and he believed in him. But Laurel was his teammate, worked with him every day. He actually didn’t know how long they’d known each other, come to think of it. If she really thought it was possible, what did that mean?

But Cisco gave a shake of the head. “No, she’s with you. Thinks there has to be something else, and that’s why she doesn’t want him to know. She’s more worried about him than herself,” he said, hitting his palm with his fist in frustration.

“Wow.” He’d had no idea Laurel cared that much for Oliver. If he found out tomorrow that one of his friends might be implicated in his death, would he have that same capacity for care, even over his own life? Maybe if it was someone he loved; after all, he had forgiven Patty with hardly a thought for trapping him with the B.O.O.T. while she went after Mardon.

Did Laurel love Oliver? His head felt like it was spinning with all these new revelations, and Barry knew even one secret more than everyone else: William. Had Oliver told anyone else? Who all knew what?

Whatever anyone knew, the thing he knew right now was that Cisco looked dead on his feet. “Look, I get how important this is. But you’re working yourself into the ground. Get some rest, and we can attack it from a whole new angle tomorrow.”

Cisco sighed in defeat. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just don’t want…”

“None of us want that,” Barry assured him. Certainly the Oliver he knew wouldn’t. “And we won’t let it happen, alright? Just like with Dr. McGee.”

His friend nodded, looking heartened, before he left the workroom. Barry’s gaze swept over the skewered mannequins, his lips pressing tight together. What were they actually going to do?

There was very little that could stop an arrow once it was fired at a person, provided they weren’t a metahuman with some kind of exoskeleton or invulnerability. The best way to protect Laurel would be to figure out precisely where and when the vision Cisco had seen was to take place.

Despite his own advice, Barry found himself tossing and turning alone in his bed as he thought it over. He wasn’t sleeping well without Patty there to wake and calm him from his nightmares about Zoom anyway, so he told himself it was probably better to put his mind to use.

A concrete room, with cafeteria-style tables and a sign about a security level. Barry wasn’t an expert in Star City geography or its landmarks, but something about Cisco’s description stood out to him, made him feel like it meant something. Maybe one of the others would have a better idea.

But how many of them could they tell? Did knowledge of Cisco’s vibes pose the same risk as knowledge of time travel? And if he told one member of their team, it was likely to get out to the rest.

If he could just talk to one person, like his dad…

And it hit him suddenly why the place Cisco had described seemed familiar in some way to him. He had been there countless times throughout the years, ever since he was eleven and his father had been wrongfully imprisoned.

Barry sat straight up in bed.

“It happens at Iron Heights.”

\---

Oliver didn’t know what the right decision to make anymore was.

He had agreed to Samantha’s ultimatum because it was the only way for him to get to know his son. He had proposed to Felicity because it was the only way to keep her from thinking he was having second thoughts about moving their relationship forward. No matter that he should be happy, having just become a father and a fiancé, he found himself plagued by a sense of unease. And the source of that unease had shocked him.

Laurel.

He couldn’t quite pin down when it had started. Around the holidays, he thought. Laurel had grown tense and withdrawn; her usual smiles seemed strained and she’d stopped seeking him out for partner training, turning to John or Thea instead. He’d been so caught up in his own adjustments since learning about William that it had taken some time for these changes to register in his conscious mind, and it had taken their argument about Machin for it to really break through.

The way she had taken an involuntary step back from him, her sharp gasp of breath and the widening of her eyes — he had only ever been faced with that look from her once before; when she had stopped him from beating a man to death in Iron Heights prison. It was fear.

He hadn’t known what to do, a rash, ill-thought out retort dying on his lips as he’d realized _she was afraid of him._ When had that happened? And why?

Did she somehow know his secret? The affair he had never disclosed? Was it making her question him? His very character, his intentions?

He couldn’t stand the idea. Lord knew Laurel had every right to doubt the efforts he was trying to make to better himself for his city and for his loved ones. But she had always put aside her own hurts to encourage him; at her best, she had always believed in him before. Was this just one hurt too far?

Guilt kept him awake as he lay on the couch in the loft, Felicity needing the bed to herself with her condition now that she had been released from the hospital. He just couldn’t see an easy solution to this. Telling Laurel the truth on his own might restore her faith in him, but it broke Samantha’s ultimatum. Leaving things be meant losing his oldest friend and possibly destroying the team’s functionality. 

The thing was, he was so sick of always letting her down. He still felt the bitter sting of her words from almost a year ago: _it’s hard to remember a time when I was ever in love with you._

He wondered uneasily for a moment why that hurt so much. It wasn’t as if he would want Laurel to be in love with him still while he was with someone else. She deserved to be happy someday. She deserved so much better.

He found himself rising from the couch and stepping into his shoes, grabbing the keys to his bike from the pocket of his coat on his way out the door. His decision was made.

It was late, he knew, but he also knew Laurel tended to stay up past even their forays into the field in order to catch up on work from her day job. She had always been that way. And people wondered when he slept.

Sure enough, Laurel answered the door in a baseball tee and pajama pants. “Oliver?” He was glad to see it was mostly confusion on her face rather than the fear from before. “Is everything okay with Felicity?”

“Yeah. She’s fine. Resting, but as fine as she can be, considering.” He was let into the front hallway and studied Laurel as she closed the door. “I guess I’m wondering if we’re okay.”

She tensed, and her voice was carefully light as she asked, “What do you mean?”

“Things have been different the last month or so. And I think I know why, and I’m sorry.”

Her face scrunched up for a moment. “You’re sorry?”

Was that so hard to believe? He turned, walking a little into the living room while he figured out just how he was saying this. “I am. It wasn’t fair to you. It never was, and I know I should have just been honest all those years ago—”

“Ollie, wait. What’s this really about?” She’d followed him and looked just as confused as he felt.

“Then… you don’t know?”

Laurel shrugged. “Safe answer when it comes to you is yes.”

He winced. Now he’d really done it. Laurel didn’t know about William, but she had to be incredibly curious as to why he’d brought up the past. And her not already knowing didn’t change the reasons why he’d felt compelled to tell her. “You might want to sit down,” he said quietly, eyes on her rug.

“Okay…”

He pursed his lips together, and began, “Do you remember Samantha Clayton?”

Laurel blinked. “Yeah. She went out with everyone to the clubs a few times, why?”

“One of the times she was there and you weren’t, we…” He hated himself for being unable to just say it. He was a damned coward, no matter how many people he saved at night.

Laurel’s breath caught, and he saw her blink back the shock and the pain. “I see. Why tell me now?”

“I should have told you years ago. It wasn’t fair to pretend it never happened, especially because — I’m a father, Laurel.”

It was the first time he’d truly gotten to say the words out loud. Barry had told him and Samantha of course had already known.

“How’d you find out?” He was sure she was using the questions as something different to focus on rather than the betrayal she had to be feeling.

“I ran into her when we were in Central City. She’s been living there, since… well, I was always told that she’d lost the baby, but it turns out my mother paid her to tell me that and then move away.”

“Oh, Ollie.” She half-stood. “I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what to think about that. I mean, Lord knows the person I was then wasn’t ready. But why couldn’t she have told me when I came back? When she could see that I’d changed? I — I‘ve lost almost nine years with him.” He knew he was ranting and that she was the last person who deserved to have all of this unloaded on him. “Or why couldn’t she have just left me to pick up the pieces of my own mess? I would have stayed home and never taken Sara on the _Gambit._ ”

“But your son would have been made into a spectacle,” Laurel pointed out, the same as his own inner voice did. “Considering how much you’ve struggled with being your father’s son all these years, I’d hate to have watched him grow up under a scandal like that.”

“William,” he murmured to his toes. “That’s his name.”

“What are you doing about William now? Has Samantha agreed to look at custody arrangements?”

He shook his head and sank wearily onto the other end of the couch. “She wants to be sure that I’ve changed my ways before even telling him, and she asked me not to tell anyone in my own life. Barry knows because I had him run the paternity test.” In one version of time, at least, or so he’d been told.

“Then why tell me? You’re risking your chance with him.”

“I know. But you deserved the truth.” He finally forced himself to meet her eyes; they were shining in the lamplight, and he knew that was from her holding so much back. “I want to be in William’s life, but I want to teach him to be better than me, too. If I can’t be honest to a woman I wronged and who is kind enough to still consider me a friend, how can I be the kind of father or role model he needs?”

Laurel reached across the space between them and took his hands. He watched her lips press tight together as she swallowed once, then said, “You’re more than that. You’re a hero. And one day, William will know that.”

He gripped her hand tight in his, so much feeling in his heart he worried his chest might burst. Relief, regret, gratefulness and, beneath it all, an old, bone-deep _longing,_ so raw and so powerful it took his breath away for a moment.

He forced himself to let go and push the feelings back down, clearing his throat with a gruff, “Thanks.”

“Thank you for being honest,” she returned.

“I am sorry.”

Laurel’s lips pursed, a smile that hadn’t quite made it. She drew back and waved a hand over herself. “Hey, ancient history, right?”

There was a warble in her voice that made the joke fall flat. Oliver knew he should go. She was putting on a brave face so he wouldn’t have to see the hurt he had caused. But he couldn’t help this strange need to be there by her side, to help ease the pain he himself had brought on her.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Maybe just some water,” she said after a moment, her gaze far away.

Oliver got up to get it, glad to have some space to himself in the kitchen for a moment. He still didn’t understand; if Laurel hadn’t known about William, then what was going on between them? Why did her mind seem to be somewhere he just couldn’t quite reach her?

He got the glass down from the cabinet she kept it in, his motions as familiar as if he were in his own kitchen he knew the place so well. It was a comfort, being here and opening up to her like this.

Oliver couldn’t help questioning Barry’s warning about Felicity's reaction in the original timeline. Surely if Laurel, who would have had every reason to hate him, scream and throw him out of her home, had handled the information with such grace and compassion, his own fiancée would do the same. Felicity loved him as he did her, so why wouldn’t she be understanding? He would talk to Samantha tomorrow about having told Laurel — he could hardly see how she could object considering Laurel had been involuntarily involved in even a tangential way — before asking her again about telling Felicity.

Just as he had decided this, there was a _whoosh_ of air out in the sitting room, and then he heard none other than Barry’s voice. “Laurel! Great, I caught you awake. Listen, I think I figured part of the vision out.”

“The vision?” He heard the creak of Laurel’s floorboards and had a feeling she’d just stood up. “Cisco told you?”

Oliver frowned. What vision was this? What did Cisco and Barry know? He crept out to the hall on the balls of his feet, minimizing the sound it made.

“It kind of slipped out. But he described some of the surroundings, and I have a pretty good idea of where it’s supposed to happen: Iron Heights.”

He peered around the corner. Sure enough, Barry was gesturing excitedly as he talked, but Oliver was forced to momentarily duck behind the wall again as Laurel’s nervous gaze flickered in his direction.

“Okay, but Barry, wait—”

“As long as we keep you away from there, you’re not going to die!”

There was a shatter of glass, but it was only when water started seeping through his shoes into his socks that Oliver realized it had been from him dropping the glass in his hand.

He couldn’t have heard right, or he was missing something or he just misunderstood. Why would Barry say Laurel was going to die? She couldn’t.

In a flicker of sudden movement, his friend was standing in front of him, eyes wide. “Oh, God, I did _not_ realize you would be here.”

Laurel appeared in his line of sight next, a hand over her mouth and her eyes glossy and wide. Oliver didn’t think he pushed Barry aside, but it was hard to say in his sudden move to reach her. His hands landed on her shoulders. “Laurel, what’s going on?”

“I…” Laurel drew in a shaky breath. “I was told by Cisco that I’m going to die. That I’ll be killed,” she amended. “I don’t know when, but probably soon.”

This had to be some cruel joke. Or a nightmare. It couldn’t be real.

But Laurel was real under his hands. Her pain and worry and the certainty in which she spoke told him this wasn’t some lie.

He looked back at Barry. “What happens at Iron Heights?”

His friend shifted, uncomfortable, then spoke towards the floor. “All Cisco saw was Laurel bleeding from an arrow in her side.”

“An arrow?” His stomach flipped, and a vision of his own — a reoccurring nightmare he’d had all of last year — rose to the forefront of his mind. Laurel in the place of her sister, dead on a table in the base.

“Not just an arrow,” Laurel spoke, barely above a whisper. “Cisco says… it looks like one of yours.”

“No.” In all his worst, darkest fears, nothing so horrible as that had ever crossed his mind. “It can’t- I would _never_ —”

“I know. I know you wouldn’t,” she said, shifting one step closer, and he couldn’t believe that she could possibly be smiling at a time like this — except he felt her shoulders shaking and saw the relief in her eyes. “I know it’s not you, Ollie.”

He pulled her close without a thought, her head tucked under his chin and his hand running through her hair. He still had so many questions, but for now all he could do was hold her, wondering at how she had been carrying this burden practically on her own. She was so strong. Even the thought of losing her was enough to make his eyes water.

What caused them to spill over was the realization that she _did_ still believe in him. She had overcome her fears, the very instinct to protect her own life, to keep working alongside him every day all while knowing what she did about the circumstances Cisco had foreseen.

Oliver gave a shaky exhale, his lips pressing to the top of her head for the briefest moment, and he felt Laurel’s hands clench the fabric of his shirt. She fit so perfectly here, he couldn’t ever imagine losing it much less being the cause. He had hurt her in the past — no matter what he did, he’d always seemed to hurt her — but by God, it ended tonight.

What was it they were missing? A copycat like the League last year? Someone else gaining possession of his weapons? He thought of Ra’s ripping the sword Oliver had chosen from his hands to plunge it through his side and shuddered. There was no way in Hell he could allow that to happen to Laurel. He would have to be dead first.

“Iron Heights,” he muttered, glancing over his shoulder, his cheek brushing against Laurel’s hair. “Barry, you’re sure?”

Barry hung back rather than approach, watching them. “Without seeing the vision myself? No. But everything in Cisco’s description of the place matches up. He also mentioned some sort of statue thing?”

A statue in the prison. Something didn’t add up, but he couldn’t think of it. Probably because he was exhausted. Laurel didn’t look much better. He thought he might likely be the only thing holding her up soon if he kept rubbing her back in soothing circles.

“You should rest,” he told her softly.

She shook her head. “I have to clean up the glass first.”

“I’ll get it,” Barry offered immediately and was gone and back with a broom and dustpan in the blink of an eye.

“Come on.” Oliver noticed her socked feet and chose to scoop her up in his arms to avoid anything while Barry finished sweeping. As he passed the spare room, he had to be grateful that Thea had always been a heavy sleeper even before the late nights that came with patrols.

He only set Laurel down once they reached her room. “Will you be okay?”

“I will. I think I needed to tell someone, even if I’m worried.” 

He could understand that better than most anyone, he thought. Having the truth out with her about Samantha and William just before this had been both relieving and one of the most terrifying things he had ever done.

She glanced up at him, raising a hand to cup his cheek while she implored him with her gaze. “Please don’t think, whatever happens, that this is your fault.”

“I won’t,” he promised. Maybe in another time, he would have thought that way. Been defeated before he even began. But it wasn’t his fault; it was his responsibility to ensure what Cisco had seen would never come to pass.

Laurel held his gaze for a long moment, and he thought neither of them dared to breathe. Then she withdrew and slipped through the doorway.

He shuffled back towards Barry, who regarded him with sympathy. “The less people that know about this, probably the better. It’s not exactly a science, but we don’t want to risk somehow setting things in stone.” At Oliver’s nod, Barry stepped up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll make sure Laurel’s safe, Ollie. Cisco thought he saw Dr. McGee die earlier this week but his vision helped us prevent it instead. It _is_ possible.”

Hope, however faint, bloomed in his chest as he looked back at Laurel’s door. She could live through this. She could go on being with them. They still had time.

“Did, um, did something happen?” His friend’s question startled him, and Oliver turned with a frown towards Barry. “I mean, obviously the vision, but — you’re here kind of late. Is Felicity…?”

Right, Felicity. He needed to get back in case she had need for anything, though he thought the chances were slim considering most people were asleep at this time of night. “She’s at the loft. I should- I should go.”

“Yeah, me too,” Barry said, still scrutinizing him with the strangest look. But the speedster was gone in the next instant, leaving him alone in Laurel and Thea’s apartment. Oliver let himself out and made the solitary trek back to his own residence.

He called Samantha early the next morning to tell her the decision he’d made. “Laurel won’t share this with anyone, she’s not that kind of a person. But I should have been honest with her.”

“No, I agree,” Samantha said after a pause. “And if she wants to talk to me, you can pass on my number. I’ve always regretted that I didn’t apologize when I knew how much she — well, you’re a lucky man to still have someone like her in your life, Oliver.”

“I know,” he replied with solemnity, thinking of just how lucky he would be if they pulled this off. If they saved her.

There was another woman in his life, of course, and as he opened his mouth to ask Samantha for just the slightest bit more leniency, he heard that woman call down from the bedroom for assistance. “I have to go,” he said with some regret. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

Oliver hung up, his mind on the various futures he had been warned about. Could it be possible that Felicity’s reaction to learning the truth would be different than what Barry had seemingly experienced in the first timeline, just like Laurel’s fate would be different than what Cisco had foreseen? He felt hope for the latter, yet, as he climbed the steps to the bedroom he’d once shared with his fiancée, there was a sense of trepidation towards the former. If experience had taught him anything, it was that life was a series of choices. It wasn’t very often a person got both of the things they wanted.

What did it say that he already knew without hesitation which he would choose?

\---

Felicity had always hated feeling like the odd woman out. In joining the team with Oliver and John along with now being engaged, she thought she’d never have to feel that way again.

And yet, here she was. On the outside looking in once again. Watching Oliver and Laurel.

Nothing had happened, from what she could tell. Laurel wasn’t that sort of girl to be the other woman, not after Oliver himself had cheated on her. They were just friends, and yet…

There was just a _closeness_ that hadn’t been there for a long time. She didn’t know a better way to describe it. It seemed every time the group was down in the base, Oliver was working with Laurel on some aspect of her training. Strength on the salmon ladder, dodging and blocking, even catching arrows from midair!

He was using ones with foam tips for that purpose which he’d designed himself, along with a whole series of projects he had decided to take on for himself. “You know, I can work out the specs a lot faster,” she’d pointed out.

“I’ll run them by you. I just want to be sure.” Where this newfound interest in trick and non-lethal arrows had come from, she didn’t know, but he was honestly starting to remind her of the early days with his micromanaging tendencies. And with the whole Laurel thing.

Was this just his defense mechanism? Every time he got close to another woman, he started backing off and then would inevitably try to endear himself to Laurel again. He’d been pushing Felicity away before this latest turn, ever since they got back from Central, and if her mother hadn’t found that ring box who knew if they’d be here right now.

It wasn’t like he was ignoring the others when it came to training or teaming up in the field. She could just be exaggerating, letting insecurity get to her since her paralyzation. There was no proof of the suspicions she held, even if someone with Oliver’s track record didn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt.

And then she heard it. Late one night, as she lay somewhere between sleep and waking, a creaking of the couch downstairs. His voice crying out.

“Laurel… Laurel!”

Felicity struggled to force her body to sit up. “Oh, he is _so_ not dreaming about her while I’m literally upstairs,” she grumbled under her breath before calling as loud as she could, “Oliver! _Oliver!_ ”

It took a demeaning amount of time for him to make it up to the room, with bloodshot eyes and a deliberate slowness to his breath that spoke of having to calm himself down. “Hey, everything okay?”

“Not really. I heard you,” she said pointedly.

He winced and sat down on the corner of the mattress. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Wow, _that_ was what he thought she was upset about? “Well, you should have maybe thought about that before you started dreaming about another woman.”

He startled. “Felicity, I wasn’t — it’s not anything like that.”

“Really? Well, if you have a good explanation for why you were literally screaming Laurel’s name, I would _love_ to hear it.”

His lips thinned into a line. “It’s not something I can share safely right now.”

Felicity scoffed. “How convenient for you. You know, I’ve been trying to put up with the secretiveness lately, trying to believe better of you, but this is not going to work if you can’t be honest with me.”

“Felicity, wait,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I promise, when the danger has passed, I will tell you everything. But it is not what you’re thinking.”

There was danger? But they were all in danger, weren’t they? As long as Darhk was around. She wavered, some of her anger receding.

“Laurel is my friend, someone I will do whatever I can to protect,” Oliver continued. “And she is always going to be in my life. That’s something anyone I love should know.”

And she had known it. But, the more she thought about it, the more she just couldn’t help it getting to her. No matter what happened in Oliver’s love life, Laurel was going to be there. Felicity could marry him or leave him, and it wouldn’t change that. She was not the constant in his life; Laurel was.

“I think Alex was right before,” she said quietly, surprising herself. And Oliver, judging by the widening of his eyes. But she wasn’t one for backing off a position once she’d taken it. “There’s too much history and baggage between you two for me to be comfortable with, especially when it just seems to draw you back together like this.” Even if he and Laurel were both determined to keep things totally platonic, there was no ignoring the deep care and even love that was in the looks they exchanged every so often.

“Laurel’s a part of the team, and we need everyone,” Oliver reminded her.

“Okay, but in the future I am asking for you to partner with either John or Thea in the field and to let John or Thea train with her.” She squeezed his hand, which had gone somewhat limp in hers. “That is not an unreasonable request considering your past.”

His head bowed. “I know I don’t deserve your trust, but Felicity, I _have_ to keep training Laurel. That doesn’t change my love for you. Please don’t make me choose.”

“Because you can’t decide?” What sort of a man couldn’t decide between his fiancée and his ex?

But when Oliver remained silent, she realized he _was_ decided. Felicity drew back, her hand pulling away from his. “I need you to go. Right now.”

“Felicity—”

“Go!” Couldn’t he respect the fact that she was trapped here and couldn’t leave herself? Once the door shut behind him, Felicity let herself cry into her pillow. Why did it always end like this?

—-

Thea wasn’t sure what was going on, but she didn’t exactly disapprove.

Oliver and Felicity had apparently decided to take a break, and Oliver was refusing to explain the reasoning behind it. This was frustrating John to no end, but Thea thought she’d found the cause in her mother’s finances.

Finding out she was an aunt was shocking, but listening to Oliver talk about his son when she’d brought her findings to him made her happy for him. He had always loved being part of a family and she knew he wanted to have his own one day. Though his prospects didn’t look good at the moment.

“Does Felicity know?” She guessed. It would be reasonable to expect the woman needed some time to process this information.

But Oliver shook his head. “No. And it is really not the time to tell her.”

Thea’s brow furrowed. “Then why the break?”

“We, uh, had a separate disagreement about something,” he told her. “Actually, the same disagreement Alex and I had last fall.”

It took a moment for Thea to realize just what he meant by that, but when she did she couldn’t help her eyes widening. “Felicity wants Laurel off the team?”

“Not that extreme,” he hurried to say.

Good, she thought, because if Laurel was to be kicked off the team then Thea would be going with her.

“Just… she wants me to keep my distance, or something,” he continued miserably. “I tried to tell her that Laurel and I aren’t like that, but she didn’t believe me. Now I’m not so sure.”

“Ollie?” Was he saying what she thought he was?

He studied his hands rather than meet her gaze. “Do you ever think about what it would be like to lose someone — a specific someone? When I try to imagine the people I couldn’t stand to lose, the one that would, would change a part of me forever and not for the good, there’s you.” He looked up and caught her eye for a moment. Thea tried to smile for him and took one of his hands. “There’s William, now. And… there’s Laurel.”

“But not Felicity?” She asked softly.

“Not because I don’t care for her,” he said, “but you and Laurel and John would stop me. I know that. If I lost Laurel or you, I don’t think I could be stopped.”

“What’s got you thinking like this?” She had to know. He could just be taking his and Felicity’s problems hard, but it seemed to be for reasons other than a broken heart.

“A few things. Darhk, for one. He took you all at the party because he wanted to get at my loved ones. By sheer luck, Laurel wasn’t there, and because she wasn’t in danger she was able to help me. I was able to fight back. And I guess it made me remember the first time I ever told Felicity I loved her.”

Thea raised an eyebrow which caused a wry half-smile. At least he recognized he was hardly making any sense.

“It was almost two years ago, right before the Siege. I knew Slade was planning to go after one more person, the person I loved. I also knew he’d planted cameras in the Manor. So, I took Felicity there and basically played out a scene.”

“So Slade wouldn’t target Laurel,” Thea realized.

He nodded, and his shoulders drooped. “I convinced myself that it wasn’t really a lie, and I- I wanted this with Felicity, I know that. But if she makes me choose between having her in my life or Laurel…” his head bowed once again. “What does that mean?”

Thea sat back, her breath leaving her in one big _whoosh_ as she thought about all of this. “I think,” she finally began, “it means that, whether you still love her romantically or not, Laurel is important to you. More important than just about anything. Does she know about William?”

“I told her,” he admitted.

Thea threw a hand up for a moment. “Then I think that says it all, really, Ollie. Laurel’s the person you want involved in your life and in your family. And, truth be told, she would never make you choose like that.” As far as Thea was concerned, that settled the matter right there and then. “But you should probably stop worrying yourself sick about losing her. Highly doubt that’s going to happen after everything she’s stuck with you through.”

“I hope you’re right,” Oliver said, with a weariness that caused her teasing grin to fade. He rose from his seat. “I’ll ask Felicity if she wants me to stay as a carer, but if not I may need to make arrangements to move my things out of the loft.” Her brother looked at her again. “Thank you for letting me work through that, Speedy. I needed it.”

“What are little sisters for besides relentless teasing?” She asked. “And hey, I’m proud of you for facing these things head-on. I’ll support you whatever happens.”

“When did you ever get so wise?”

They shared a smile before Oliver left to have his talk with who Thea suspected would become his former fiancée. Thea, for her part, left for the apartment she shared with Laurel.

A part of her felt kind of giddy upon entering the place. She’d meant what she’d said about supporting her brother no matter what; that had included his engagement. But there was just something _special_ about the idea of him and Laurel. Maybe it reminded her of happier, simpler times. Maybe she could picture their mom’s delight that she’d been right all along. Maybe it was just that these were the two people Thea held dearest in the whole world, and she wanted to see them both get a happily ever after. If it was together, so much the better.

So she practically skipped into the living room where Laurel sat at her desk, frowning over a pile of documents. “Hey.”

It took her friend a moment to look up, and when she did her smile was strained. “Hey, yourself.”

Thea paused. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just trying to figure out the best deal for selling my car,” Laurel said.

“Why would you do that?”

Laurel shrugged. “I don’t use it much. John tends to drive the team around, and I can always borrow my dad’s if I really need one for an errand. It’d just be kind of a hassle to hang onto.” Her friend flipped the folder she’d been looking through shut and turned fully around in her chair. “But how’s it going? You stayed kind of late to talk to Ollie.”

“Yeah, well, we had some family stuff to discuss,” she said with a significant look; Laurel clearly understood by the slight widening of her eyes followed by a nod. “And he wanted my advice on something.”

“Is it something he wants discloses to the rest of the team or a private matter?”

Thea shrugged. “You’ll probably find out sooner than later. I think he and Felicity are over.”

Thea considered it a very near thing that Laurel didn’t fall right out of her chair. “What?”

“Apparently Felicity gave him a bit of an ultimatum,” Thea informed her with a grin. She’d never quite been able to quell her inner gossip, after all. “Only she’s not getting the answer she was probably looking for.”

“It wasn’t about William, was it?”

“Nope.” She could only try to imagine Felicity’s reaction to learning about that one. “Turns out it had a little bit more to do with you.”

She watched Laurel freeze for a moment, a whole range of emotion flickering in her eyes as she asked, “Me?”

“Yeah. I guess all the training you guys were doing lately spooked her and she wanted Ollie to promise to keep his distance, and he’s not exactly prepared to do that.”

“But he- that’s not— I can’t believe him sometimes,” Laurel grumbled, standing roughly enough to cause her chair to rock back on two legs. Thea backed up in surprise. “Where is he?”

“Telling Felicity his decision.”

“I have to stop him.”

“Wait, what?” She moved in front of her friend before she could go for the car keys — the ones she had _just_ been talking about getting rid of. “Laurel, there’s no reason to stop him. He decided you’re important enough to stand up for, and if that’s a deal breaker for Felicity then it might as well end now.”

“But he loves her.”

“So you _don’t_ want Ollie to love you?” Thea asked, fixing her friend with a look.

“Of course I—” Laurel seemed to realize what she’d been about to say and drew in a calming breath. “I’m happy that Oliver cares about me enough to put his own relationship on the line, but he’s throwing away his chance to be happy.”

“Maybe he can be happy with just us,” Thea pointed out.

But Laurel shook her head. “He and Felicity have a future, he’s only wasting his time—”

“What do you mean?”

But Laurel clammed up, arms folding over her chest and cheeks paling. “I— never mind. You’re right, it’s his decision. I should get some sleep or something.” Laurel retreated back to her room, shutting the bedroom door with a snap.

Thea felt more confused than ever as she slowly crossed to the couch. What did Laurel think Oliver was wasting his time on? Her? But why would that be? Why did Laurel seem to think he and Felicity had a future together and that she and Oliver couldn’t have one?

But that wasn’t exactly what she had said, Thea thought, reconsidering Laurel’s words. She had merely said that Oliver and Felicity had a future. That could be together or apart. And by contrast, it was as if Laurel was saying she _didn’t_ have one.

Thea looked over at the desk with its documents. Laurel was selling her car. Last month, she’d put Thea’s name on the lease after procrastinating on it for the better part of a year. She’d been cleaning some, too, organizing things and boxing them up as if to make them easier to pack up and move somewhere. All of these incidents when combined seemed to paint an image of a woman who was getting her affairs in order.

A cold chill went through her, setting deep in her heart. Was Laurel dying?

Tears stung her eyes just at the thought, try as she might to tell herself she was overreacting and jumping to conclusions. Laurel was just as healthy as ever, just as active in the field and in training, if not more so. She wouldn’t be doing those things if she’d received some kind of diagnosis, would she?

Unless she didn’t want anyone to know. She hadn’t said anything to Thea, and the others hadn’t been acting all that different — except Oliver. She’d chalked her brother’s strangeness up to finding out about William reordering his priorities, but what if it was more than that? What if Laurel had confided in him and now he was making the most of whatever time they had left?

Her tears spilled over. Thea felt totally unsure of what to do. Did she confront her friend? Pretend nothing was wrong? What was the best way to help her?

Ollie has been wrong; she didn’t feel very wise right now. She felt scared.

\---

Quentin had learned over the years that there were few things more reliable than his gut. Detective’s instinct, honed from long nights on the case. And right now, his gut was telling him something was wrong.

The trouble was, he couldn’t see what. The impossible had finally happened; Darhk was captured. Even more than that, Oliver’s heretofore secret son had been rescued unharmed.

Maybe that was it. Maybe he was worried about what this news had to be doing to his daughter. Quentin had done the math in his head and knew this young boy, innocent though he was, was proof of Oliver’s less than honorable character from years past. Laurel had seemed unaffected when she’d come to his office to loop him in on the search for the kid, but he also knew better than most that his daughter tended to push everything aside to avoid dealing with the emotions of it. Until it became too much to ignore.

He went to her apartment, but found no one home. His next stop was the base. He found Diggle packing up for the night and Thea sitting in Felicity’s old chair — the latter having chosen to take a break from the team thanks to her and Oliver’s breakup, which he’d heard some about through Donna.

“Hey, is Laurel still in?”

“She and Oliver are talking,” Thea said, gesturing to a room off the side that she had been watching pensively until now. Quentin nodded his thanks and marched over there. Better for him to hear some of this for context if his girl needed comforting later on.

But Laurel’s voice was all business as he approached. “He’s being held in Iron Heights, and assuming our office can get a judge to deny him bail, that’s where he’ll stay until his trial.”

“Iron Heights,” Oliver repeated, something about the weight he gave the words making the very air sound heavy.

“I know.”

Quentin frowned at the worry creasing both their brows, the tension that seemed to fill the small space. “Know what?”

Laurel jumped and turned to face him, and Oliver tensed. “Dad! Um, we were just talking about Darhk.”

“Yeah, and I’d have thought there’d be a little more of a celebration going on here considering,” he replied. “How come it feels like I just entered a wake?”

“We’re just concerned about him having a backup plan,” Oliver said when Laurel looked to him seemingly for help. “His idol Mari broke, it has some ability to repair itself. If he can get a hold of the whole thing again, we’ll be right back where we started.” With a deliberateness Quentin couldn’t help noticing, the younger man took his daughter’s hand. “Our best bet is to figure out a way to separate the idol’s pieces as permanently as possible and remove Darhk from Iron Heights before he can instigate trouble that requires our intervention.”

“He say something about doing that?”

“It’s only a matter of time.”

“If we want to keep the idol’s pieces as separate as possible, we should get some of them out of the city, right?” Laurel asked. “I could take some of them to Central on a visit? But I don’t want to leave them with mom if it puts her in danger,” she added, worrying her bottom lips with her teeth.

“She would want you out of danger,” Oliver insisted, “but I think I have a different idea about Central.” He took out his phone and left the room.

Quentin stepped forward before his daughter could follow. “Honey, what’s going on?”

“Um, we have somewhat reliable information that Darhk might be able to stage something within the prison, and that if he does it could… I could get hurt.”

He blinked. “What exactly does that mean?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t really say anything more than that.”

“Well, Oliver seems to know,” he pointed out. “Seems pretty worried about it.” And if Oliver was worried then that had to mean something worse was coming.

A rush of wind and crackle of light from the next room over drew his attention, and Laurel led them back out into the main room where they others stood around the Flash.

“Do you think this is the statue?” The Central City hero was asking.

“I know it is,” Oliver answered. “Which is why it has to stay broken. I need you to scatter the pieces, Barry. Nowhere with any significant meaning or ties to any of us. Just as far and as wide as you can run.”

“Oliver, are you sure we shouldn’t be keeping track of the pieces?” Diggle asked with a frown.

“If we know where they are, then Darhk could find out from spying on us,” said Oliver. “The goal is that no one can keep track of the pieces.”

The Flash nodded. “I can do that.”

“Thank you, Barry. I’ll owe you one.”

“Actually, I will,” Laurel said, stepping up beside Oliver again.

“Neither of you owe anything. Oh, but I was asked to bring this along,” the Flash said, picking up a box Quentin hadn’t noticed set on a side table. “A new suit. Cisco’s pretty confident in this design.”

Laurel took it from him, hugging it to her chest. “I’ll have to come out and thank him sometime.”

“He’d like that.” The Flash scooped up the broken pieces of the idol. “Scatter to the winds?”

“To wherever you can,” Oliver confirmed. The other hero nodded, and was gone in a Flash like his namesake.

Diggle gestured to the box still in Laurel’s arms. “How come Cisco made you a new suit?”

“I didn’t ask him to. I guess he just wanted to do his part.” She set it down, lifting the lid and smiling wide.

Oliver leaned in close, too, touching the material inside. “It’s good work. Sturdy.”

Quentin started to come forward to get his own look, but Thea’s timid voice seemed to cause them all to freeze. “You’re still gonna be out in the field?”

Laurel looked up. “Yeah, Speedy, of course.”

“Then… you’re not dying?”

Quentin’s mouth dropped open as he watched Laurel pale and exchange a panicked look with Oliver.

“What’s Thea talking about?” Diggle asked, giving voice to the question foremost in his mind.

“I, um…”

“Cisco had another vision,” Oliver explained, “warning us about something that _might_ happen. But we’re taking steps to prevent it.”

“He saw Darhk killing Laurel,” Quentin said, his voice gruff. He’d known, hadn’t he? The minute he realized what a dangerous man Darhk was, the minute he had threatened Laurel’s life, he should have known he’d placed his own daughter on borrowed time.

“We don’t know for sure,” Laurel said quietly. “But the evidence seems to point that way.”

“Then we take care of him first,” Diggle said. “He brainwashed my brother for years. I’m not letting him take away someone else.” He walked up to Oliver and Laurel, placing a hand on her shoulder. “How long have you known about this?”

“A few- a few months,” she admitted.

“You could have told us. All of us,” John said with a glance towards Oliver. “We’re a team, and we help each other.”

“Cisco’s not sure how his visions work, if more people knowing is a bad thing or not,” she told him. “And I didn’t want to worry all of you. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“And that’s why you put me on your lease and were looking at selling your car,” Thea murmured, almost to herself as she looked up at the ceiling.

As she said it, Quentin started thinking back through the months, too. Her seemingly random drive to make sure they got to AA regularly even amongst all the chaos in their lives, the sorrow on her face as he’d explained all the things he had done, both for Darhk and as a double agent against him, to keep her safe, the smile she had forced on at the tree ceremony when she’d watched Oliver propose. All the time she’d thought she didn’t have much left, and she’d spent it on others.

Laurel winced. “You weren’t supposed to notice that.”

Thea sniffled, looking even tinier than she normal. “Well, I didn’t, until you kind of implied you didn’t have a future. I thought you’d been told you had cancer or something.”

Laurel shook her head, moving forward to the younger woman Quentin knew counted as a sister in her heart. “No. And, hopefully, I’ll be okay now. I’m sorry.” She hugged Thea tight, and Thea held on just as much.

“We’re removing the idol from Darhk’s reach, Laurel will be wearing Cisco’s new suit instead of her old one, and I’ve taken some steps of my own,” Oliver outlined. “All designed to prevent that future from playing out as he saw it. It’s the best defense we have.”

“I’ll do one better,” Diggle added. “Lyla can probably get jurisdiction over Darhk, or convince the Feds that he’s too dangerous to leave just in Iron Heights. We’ll get him moved.”

Laurel looked back around. “Thank you, John.” As she said it, her gaze drifted in his direction, and the smile she wore slipped off her face. “Oh, daddy.”

“This would’ve been my fault. If Darhk has come after you.”

She crossed the room to him, already shaking her head. “We don’t know why he would’ve targeted me. It could be he’s planning to break out and I would be one of the people stopping him. This life… it is dangerous. If anything, this experience has made me confront that. I _could_ die,” she said, looking him straight in the eye as she did. “But I know for certain now that if I’m not going out there as the Black Canary helping my team, I don’t really feel alive inside.”

“I want you to be safe,” he told her. “But... I know it’s more important you’re happy.”

She smiled before pulling him into a hug. He squeezed her to him, unsure if he could ever really let her go. Just the thought of losing her made it hard to breathe.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when at last they separated. “Damn, I should’ve worn the waterproof mascara,” Thea joked weakly, earning a couple watery chuckles. “I’m just gonna fix this in the bathroom.”

“And I’ll call Lyla now,” said John, leaving the room as he took out his phone.

Laurel wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand as she headed back over to the table. “I really want to try this on,” she murmured, her hand running down the side of the box. “But maybe it’s best we call it an early night.”

“Yeah,” Oliver agreed softly.

“What did you and Samantha end up deciding?” She asked. “If you don’t mind…”

“No, you all probably need to know,” he replied. “Um, we both agreed that, that William’s safer the further away he can get from my life.”

“I’m so sorry, Ollie.” Laurel turned away from her new suit to face him. Quentin was surprised at the amount of compassion in her gaze. Sure, his girl had the most generous heart he knew, but news like this would have to take days if not weeks to really process to be able to have this kind of talk.

Unless she _had_ had weeks. Had she known? This closeness he was seeing between the two; had Oliver finally stepped up to do right by Quentin’s family?

“It’s what I had to do. This life that I lead, it’s not something I can do and maintain a family or- or a relationship,” Oliver said, looking down.

“I think Thea would disagree,” Laurel pointed out, though as Oliver frowned she added, “Yes, right now William might be too young and vulnerable, especially with enemies who know your identity out there. Enemies like Malcolm, I might add.”

“You might,” he acknowledged with chagrin.

“But,” Laurel continued, “when he’s older, I think you and Samantha _both_ need to talk to him and let him decide for himself what he wants to do. Let him make the choice when he’s ready.”

“I sent a video with Samantha for her to give him when he’s eighteen,” Oliver told her. “Telling him why I couldn’t be there for him. I hope he understands, that he can… forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Laurel brought one hand up to his shoulder. “Oliver, you and William were kept apart through circumstances beyond your control, and now you are making the best decision you can to protect him. You’re sacrificing more for this city than anyone should expect of you.” Her smile turned wistful. “I was trying to make sure everyone was okay before, well, whatever Cisco saw might have happened. I think I did a pretty good job except for you.”

“You’re here,” Oliver said. “So I’m okay.”

They didn’t seem to realize anyone was still in the room. That was, Quentin hoped Oliver had forgotten _he_ was in the room if he was going to look at Quentin’s daughter like she was the most precious thing in the world.

He cleared his throat as the pair of them seemed to sway forward a little. Oliver froze and Laurel quickly stepped back, removing her hand from Oliver’s shoulder as if it had been burned. Good to know he could still return them to their young adult selves.

“Uh…”

“Look, I don’t _mind_ exactly,” he began with a look to both of them. “But maybe take things a little slow, huh?”

Oliver’s lips pressed together as he looked down, and Laurel’s cheeks were pink with embarrassment. Just doing his job.

Thea came back into the main area, looking around at them all. “What’d I miss?”

Quentin smirked and shook his head, turning and walking to the elevator. They could fill her in if they wanted. When they were ready.

\---

He’d been worried about events in Star for so long, it took Cisco by surprise when things turned really hectic in their own neck of the woods.

Caitlin has been taken. He was so scared for his friend it was hard to even think sometimes, but he needed to because his other friend was in trouble, too. Barry had given up his speed in exchange for Wally, which meant that they were not just powerless against Zoom once again, but also that there was no one to fight the regular crime in Central City.

No one, that was, till their substitute came in.

“Wow, it’s great to meet you,” Iris said with a smile. “And that you’d come out here for this.”

“I owe Barry and Cisco a few favors,” Laurel explained with a smile. “And it’s better for all of us if we help each other out now and then. Next week is Oliver’s turn, since I’ll have to be getting back to work.”

“It hopefully shouldn’t come to that. Harry’s got a plan to give Barry back his speed,” Joe said. Cisco wondered if he just didn’t want Green Arrow hanging around their city.

“Well, I hope for Central’s sake it works.”

It didn’t.

Cisco ran down from the roof after transferring the lightning through their specially-built wand only to find the others mourning the charred remains of Barry’s suit. All of the others except Wally and Jesse, collapsed in the hallway, and Laurel, lying still by the machine.

He hurried to her side, panic rising as he reached to check her pulse. Just as his fingers brushed the skin on her wrist—

He was plunged into the blue-tinted world he associated with his visions. Cisco looked around, terrified of what he might see this time.

He ducked reflexively as a ripple of sound raced past him accompanied by a loud scream. The source was none other than the Black Canary, standing in a protective stance in front of Green Arrow who knelt on the ground. Cisco watched, amazed by the power her Cry now possessed, and it occurred to him he couldn’t see the choker he’d made around her neck.

The Laurel of this vision stopped her cry, turning to pull Oliver up from the ground. But Oliver remained kneeling, holding Laurel’s hand in his own as he took out a ring box.

Cisco found himself back in the real world, gaping as his mind caught up with what he’d just seen. Laurel groaned and turned over, not quite awake and aware.

“Cisco, is she okay?” Iris asked, a waver in her voice from her anguish over Barry’s disappearance.

But Cisco couldn’t help smiling as he answered. “Yeah. She’s gonna be just fine.”


End file.
